They drove in silence to the family home two miles beyond the Ellicott City line. He parked, turned, and looked at her. “I won’t succeed unless you and your brothers tell me every relevant thing that you know. This is a big house, and I’m looking for a piece of paper.” He considered himself an excellent judge of people, and he observed her closely until she blushed. He could see that he’d embarrassed her.
“I’m sorry, Shirley. I hope you don’t mind me using your first name. I have a habit of studying people as carefully as possible. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Shall we go in?”
She guided him room by room through the huge house. Each of the siblings had a room and bath, and the old man had reserved for himself what appeared to be a separate wing in which he could live without encountering any of his offspring.
She answered his many questions, but he didn’t find anything that she said more helpful than what he already knew. “How did he spend his time after dinner?” he asked her.
She appeared bemused. “I don’t know. I never saw much of him after dinner. He hated noise, so we never sat together talking, listening to music, or watching television.”
“What did you give your father for Christmas ... after you got a job?”
“I gave him a Montblanc pen, a sweater, an electric shaver, things like that.”
It amazed him that she showed so much patience. “I want you to think back and try to remember everything you ever gave him. Not now, but later. What did he especially like?”
“Animals. But he didn’t have pets.”
He continued the questioning until noon. “I’m starved,” he said. “Suppose we get a sandwich or something, come back and search for an hour?”
And so went their pattern for the next three days, but in the end he had nothing to show for it but a pile of notes that he recorded each day after leaving her.
“You mean he still doesn’t have a clue?” Gunther asked her after she’d spent three days with Carson.
“If he has, he’s keeping it to himself.”
“For goodness’ sake, don’t say that to Edgar. He’ll jump all over Montgomery.”
“You’re kidding. Nobody’s going to jump all over that man. Let’s eat out. I don’t feel like cooking, and you’re so tired, you literally flung yourself into that chair. You should have a housekeeper for this big place. Why don’t you?”
“I thought several times that I’d do it, but Lissa said there wasn’t enough for a housekeeper to do here. So I got a weekly cleaning woman.”
“Lissa knew a housekeeper would see straight through her and her tricks. Get a housekeeper.” She telephoned the secretary of the church to which she went on occasion. “Ms. Broadus, my brother needs a housekeeper, experienced and preferably over forty, not too motherly and not man hunting.”
“I think I have just the person for him. She worked for a family for the past year, but the man lost his job and can’t any longer afford a housekeeper. She’s a good Christian woman, so she won’t be drinking and carrying on. You know what I mean.”
She didn’t, but could guess. Shirley gave the woman Gunther’s address. “Ask her to come this afternoon, if possible.” She hung up and called to Gunther, “A woman is coming here this afternoon to interview for the job as your housekeeper. I got the contact from the church office.”
“Thanks. I’d have procrastinated about that indefinitely. What do I know about hiring a housekeeper?”
“You’ll learn this afternoon.”
Gunther opened the door to Mirna Jordan, looked hard at her, and released a breath of relief. “Come in. I’m Gunther Farrell.”
“My name’s Mirna Jordan, Mr. Farrell, and I’m here because I need a job.”
A no-nonsense woman. He liked that. “Come in and have a seat.” He liked her face. She had an air of competence and self-possession. He went into the kitchen and got two glasses and the pitcher of sweetened ice tea that Shirley had placed there earlier, and joined her in the living room.
“It’s hot outside,” he said, and poured a glass full and handed it to her. Then he poured a glass for himself and sat opposite her.
“Thank you, sir. After that long walk I had, I was about to burn up.”
“A bus stops about two blocks from here.”
“I know, but every dollar’s important to me these days.”
He leaned back, hoping to make her comfortable. “Tell me about yourself.”
“I’m a widow, Mr. Farrell, and I have one daughter who’s a junior at Spelman College in Atlanta. She lives with my sister and brother-in-law, but I’m paying her bills. I’m forty-eight. I worked on my last job up until last week, when the man lost his job. The company moved to somewhere in the Pacific, and he couldn’t move the family there because both his mother and his mother-in-law are very sick. Here’s the telephone number if you want a reference. It broke my heart to leave them, but you know life don’t promise you a thing.”
She shook her head as if perplexed and continued speaking. “No, it sure don’t. I’m a good cook, and I can give you meat and potatoes, or I can cook a gourmet meal for twenty-five people. Just let me know what you like and what you don’t like, and I’ll keep you happy. If you want me to do the shopping, just give me a budget. I know how to run a house.”
“I’ll check your references and—”
“Excuse me, Mr. Farrell, but I don’t mind if you call them while I’m sitting here. I took care of that home and that family as if they were my own. They cried when I left.”
He observed her closely for a minute. She needed the job, and she didn’t want to give him a chance to hire someone else. He dialed the number. “Hello. May I speak with Mrs. Parsons, please?
“Mrs. Parsons, I’m Gunther Farrell, and I’m interviewing Mrs. Jordan for a job as my housekeeper. She says she kept house for you.”
He listened while Mrs. Parsons extolled Mirna Jordan’s virtues as a housekeeper and as a woman and decided that he’d be lucky if the woman agreed to work for him. “Thank you, Mrs. Parsons. I appreciate this. Good-bye.”
He hung up. “What do you say I show you my apartment? It’s much bigger than it looks from here. There’re three bedrooms and three baths upstairs, and a living room, dining room, den, kitchen, and lavatory on this floor. A balcony overlooks the garden, which I confess I don’t take the best care of.”
As they walked through the rooms, she stopped and asked him, “Why did you need such a big apartment?”
“Good question. I figured I should get one in which I could raise a family, when and if I get married.”
“I don’t imagine you’re having any trouble getting married.”
“Not really, because I haven’t tried. My sister is staying with me for a couple of weeks. She lives in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. Do you smoke?”
“Me? Smoke? No, siree.”
“Good. I don’t want one puff of smoke in this apartment. I have an older brother, Edgar, who lives in the family home about two miles outside of the city. If you’re here alone and he attempts to muscle his way in, don’t open the door. He can be devious, unprincipled. No matter how much charm he exudes, do not let him in.”
She looked at him as if sizing him up. “Is he jealous of you?”
“That’s one way to put it.”
“Don’t you worry. I get the whole picture, and if you say a person’s not to come here, I won’t be the one to let ’em in. Not ever!”
He called Shirley. “Come down for a few minutes. I want you to meet Mrs. Jordan.”
Shirley ran down the stairs, walked over to Mirna Jordan, and shook her hand. “I’m delighted to meet you, Mrs. Jordan. You won’t see much of me, because I live in Florida, but I’m glad you’ll be here to take care of my big brother. I hope you’ll keep the fat and salt in his food low, because he doesn’t concern himself much with his health.”
“You needn’t worry about that, miss, if I work here. I have to tell you, though, that he and I don’t have an agreement yet.”
“Heavens,” Gunther said. “I forgot about that.” He quoted Mirna a salary and added, “You’ll have health insurance and, of course, sick and vacation leave.”
Mirna stood up and sat back down. “You offering me the job? Lord, I can’t believe it. The pay is fine, sir. Well, you will definitely not regret it. I’m gonna keep this place like polished glass. Thank you, sir. When do you want me to start?”
“Tomorrow. You get Sundays and Thursday afternoons off.”
“I need to know how much I can spend for food and for dry cleaning each month. I’ll do the regular laundry. And let me know what time you eat breakfast and dinner.”
They shook hands. After taking her address and social security number, he gave her a key. “See you in the morning. I’ll call a taxi for you.” He called the taxi, walked out with her, and paid the fare.
“Well, what do you think?” he asked Shirley when he returned.
“I think you’ve probably hit the jackpot. I got great vibes from her.”
“So did I. How old do you think she is?”
Shirley folded her arms and thought for a minute. “About fifty-five or sixty. She looks as if she’s had a hard life.”
“Maybe. She’s a widow, and she said she’s forty-eight.”
“What? It’s been my experience that black women don’t age fast, but she just didn’t act that young.”
He jerked his shoulder in a shrug. “Who knows what she’s been through?”
Mirna Jordan relaxed in the taxi and used the cell phone her previous employer gave her to call her friend. “May I please speak with Frieda Davis?”
“Girl, you won’t believe this. I got a job. The Lord does provide. And this man gon’ pay me a hundred more a month than I was getting at Ms. Parsons’s. Plus, girl, there’s just him in his big three-bedroom apartment, and the man is sending me home in an air-conditioned taxi.”
“I told you not to worry. All worry does for you is make you sick.”
“Imagine me with health insurance, sick pay, and vacation time. I’m moving up to your class.”
“People ought to pay their housekeepers decent wages,” Frieda said. “And it wouldn’t hurt people to pay us LPNs what we’re worth, either. I’m happy for you, Mirna. Talk to you later. I have a distressed patient to look after. Bye.”
Mirna hung up and called her daughter, using one of her free long-distance calls. And after sharing her good news with the person closest to her, she said a prayer of thanks. Life was good. She’d be all right.
Gunther tripped down the stairs the next morning at a quarter past seven to fix his breakfast, sniffed the odor of food coming from the kitchen, and stopped. He’d forgotten that he’d hired a housekeeper. Thankful that he was fully dressed, he walked into the kitchen.
“Good morning, Mr. Farrell. Breakfast will be ready in a minute. Here. You can have some coffee while I flip these over.”
“Good gracious,” he said. “You’re as busy as a bee. What did you find to cook?”
“You had bread and coffee. I brought eggs, milk, bacon, grits, sausage, and some fresh fruit with me this morning. I know how men keep house. This is ready. You want to eat in the dining room?”
“I’m used to eating in here. Shirley’s still asleep, so it’s just the two of us this morning. I can set the table. This coffee is really good. What kind is it?”
“It’s the coffee you bought. I probably make it stronger than you do.”
He set the table for two, and she placed fresh sliced peaches, grits, scrambled eggs, rope sausage, and French toast on the table. “Come on,” he said. “I see I’m going to have to start working out in a gym every day.” He cut a piece of French toast.
“I have to say grace before I eat,” she said.
He stopped eating. “I was taught to do that, and I see I’m going to have to do better.”
He finished eating, stood and looked down at Mirna. “This was a terrific breakfast. I enjoyed every calorie. Here’s your budget, and an envelope of petty cash.”
“Thanks, Mr. Farrell. I’ll keep good records.”
“If you do that, we won’t have a problem.” As he walked out the door of the building in which he lived, he heard the roar of Edgar’s big Harley-Davidson.
Now what?
Chapter Three
Edgar hopped off the motorcycle and headed toward Gunther. “You know I’m supposed to be at my office by now,” Gunther said. “What’s up?”
“I thought I’d drop by and say hi to Shirley for a few minutes.”
“Shirley’s asleep. Were you planning to give her the three thousand dollars you took from her?”
“Now look here. I didn’t put a gun in her back. She gave it to me willingly.”
“She didn’t give it to you. She loaned it to you after you handed her a hard-luck story. She’s your baby sister, for heaven’s sake. You should be taking care of
her
. Don’t bother to ask her for any more money, because she isn’t going to give it to you.”
Edgar didn’t want to hear that. Right then, she was his only hope. “Let her speak for herself.”
“She promised me she wasn’t going to lend you another cent, and you know Shirley keeps her word.”
“You’ve got no business meddling in my business. One of these days, you’ll go too far.”
Gunther folded his arms across his chest and widened his stance, and Edgar knew that when Gunther did that, a hurricane wouldn’t move him. Unfortunately, his younger brother was taller than he by six inches and had the weight that went with a six-foot, three-inch skeleton. He’d have to be crazy to take him on. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to. In his honest moments, he’d admit that he had far more natural talent than Gunther, but ... Oh, what the hell! He swung around, jumped on his Harley, and let his brother taste the fumes that it exhausted.
Gunther stood where Edgar left him, staring at the speeding vehicle until he could no longer see it. He’d give anything if he could connect with Edgar as one brother should with another. He got into his car and drove to his office. He’d learned years earlier that worrying about Edgar and Edgar’s attitude toward him was as wasteful as it was painful.
He walked into his office, his adrenaline already pumping from his thoughts of his next game of
Mice and Cats
. If children loved his idea, he’d have to create a new game at least once every three months. He stopped abruptly.
“What the hell!” he exclaimed, staring at Lissa. “What are you doing here?”
“I ... uh ... I thought we’d talk. I know you didn’t mean what you said the other day.”
He threw his briefcase on his desk, walked around to his chair, and sat down. “I meant every word I said, and you’re old enough to recognize the truth when you hear it. There isn’t going to be anything else between you and me. Not now and not ever. I am not one bit sympathetic with the game you were playing.”
“But you enjoyed being with me. You can’t deny that.”
“I don’t want to be coarse, Lissa, so please don’t push me to it. I don’t entertain women socially in my office, and I don’t allow my employees to do it. So, I’d appreciate it if you’ll excuse me. Now. And, Lissa, it’s over.”
He stood, but she waved a hand dismissively. “I know the way out.”
What kind of woman would plan a future with a man without his consent, without his ever having told her that he loved her and without having done or said anything to suggest that she loved him? “It’s a lesson,” he said aloud, “and I will not have to learn it a second time.” He got up to lower the air-conditioning and his gaze took in what appeared to be a business card lying on the floor near his desk.
He picked up the card and read E
DGAR
F
ARRELL
. M
ASTER
OF THE CLASSICAL AND JAZZ GUITAR
. He punched the intercom. “Medford, was my brother here this morning?”
“No. The only visitor here today was a woman named Lissa Goins. She said she was your fiancée, so I let her sit in your office.”
“I don’t have a fiancée, Medford—Miss Goins was attempting to be clever. I do not want her here again. Not ever.”
“Man, I’m sorry. She didn’t look like she was lying.”
“She was lying, and if she comes here again, I will indict her for harassment.”
“You couldn’t make it clearer than that, Gunther.”
He dialed Edgar’s cell number.
“Hello. What’s up, brother?”
“I’m not sure, Edgar. How do you happen to know Lissa Goins?”
“That’s what I call cutting to the chase. She called me, came to the house, told me she was your fiancée and that you found another woman and dropped her like a hot potato. She cried for an hour. I told her no man was worth that much misery and that she ought not to have much trouble finding another dude and getting on with her life. She made a hell of a pass at me, but, man, I won’t stoop that low. Sex is too easy to get.”
He gave Edgar a summary of his relationship with Lissa, ending with details of their breakup. “Lissa wants a husband, and she wants money. She has no scruples about how she gets either of them. Why did she have your business card?”
“I ... uh ... I didn’t know she had it.”
“If you want a problem, hang out with Lissa,” Gunther said. “She’ll make certain that you get one.”
“Naah, man. I don’t want your leavings.”
That didn’t sound one bit like Edgar. Righteousness was not his forte. It didn’t smell right. But for the time being, he’d leave the matter. He’d learned that if he gave Edgar enough rope, he’d become increasingly brazen and soon hang himself.
“Doesn’t it bother you?” Shirley asked when he told her about it that night. “I’d be furious.”
“You think I’m not mad? I’d like to send my fist through both of them. I don’t want that woman to tell people I’m her fiancé, and if I hear that she persists, I’ll take out an ad—”
“Don’t do that. Indict her and ask heavy damages. That will teach her a lesson. You’re not going to continue seeing her, are you?”
“You can’t be serious. The other day, I met someone at a trade show who interests me. I’m not sure about her, though, but she’s one up on Lissa, because she has a good job and probably isn’t looking for someone to support her. I want a woman to marry me because she loves me and needs me.”
“As good-looking as you are, there shouldn’t be a problem.”
“But there is. The only women who think I’d be interested in them are the designer-clothed, picture-perfect narcissistic beauties who bore me to death. Avoiding them is how I got mixed up with Lissa.”
“Are you going to let me meet this trade-show gal?”
“That’s not a bad idea. She likes baseball. I’ll see if I can get three good seats before you leave.” He thought for a minute. “Maybe. I don’t know. ”
“I’m thinking of moving to Frederick if my boss will let me. It will only cost the company my occasional transportation from Frederick to either Orlando or Fort Lauderdale.”
Hmm. What was behind that? He knew how she loved living within walking distance from the Atlantic Ocean. It bore watching.
Shirley told herself that she needed to be on hand to mediate misunderstandings between her brothers lest they do irreparable damage to their relationship. But on the following morning when she opened the door to Carson Montgomery, she was not so certain of the rationalization she gave herself for her decision to move back to Frederick. The emotional jarring she got when she looked up at him annoyed her.
“Hi. Why the frown?” he asked her.
“I didn’t know I was frowning. Shall we go?”
“Sure. That’s why I’m here.” So the brother could give as good as he got and wasn’t slow about doing it.
“Sorry, but I’m a little discombobulated,” she said, and wasn’t sure that explanation helped the situation.
He didn’t let her off the hook. “About what? It’s only nine o’clock.”
“Look, Carson. We’d better start over again. Would you like some coffee?”
“Would I like ... What a switch! Do I dare say no?”
She braced her knuckles against her sides, quickly removed them, and stared at him. “What’s going on here?”
“Something that neither of us plans to admit,” he said under his breath. Louder, he said, “You going to bring the coffee to me here, or are you going to ask me to come in?”
“That you at the door, Miss Shirley?”
“Yes. It’s me.”
Carson’s eyebrows shot up. “Am I interrupting anything?”
“No. Come in. That’s Mrs. Jordan, my brother’s housekeeper.”
“Thanks for the offer of coffee. All I’ve had this morning is a cup of Maxwell’s best instant.”
She closed the door. “Would you mind drinking it in the kitchen? I don’t want to get in Mrs. Jordan’s way.”
“You won’t be in my way,” Mirna said. “Sit in the dining room, and you’ll have coffee in ten minutes.”
“Thanks,” Shirley said. “Mrs. Jordan, this is Carson Montgomery.”
“Glad to meet you, Mrs. Jordan.”
“Likewise, I’m sure. I got some waffle batter left from breakfast. Would you like a waffle?”
“If you give me a homemade waffle, I may never leave here.”
“Well, get comfortable.”
Shirley got a place setting for Carson and a mug for herself.
Ten minutes later, Mirna put a carafe of coffee on the table along with waffles, maple syrup, butter, and half a cantaloupe. “If you’d dropped by earlier, Mr. Montgomery, I’d a given you a real breakfast.”
“Thank you. I don’t see how it could be more real than this.” He sampled the coffee. “This is pure heaven.” He ate slowly as if savoring every bite and every minute of the experience. “I’d like to know what set you off this morning, but if you’re not comfortable telling me, I’ll accept that.”
If he had the guts to say what he wanted to, so did she. Instead of answering his question, she said, “You’re not wearing a wedding band, and I don’t see the print of one on your finger. Does that mean you’re not married?”
“That’s precisely what it means. I’m divorced, and I don’t have any children, though I regret the latter.”
“But you don’t regret the divorce?”
“No, indeed. I regret the mistake I made in getting married.”
Now what could she say to that? “Are you bitter about it?”
“No. If I was, I’d only hurt myself. I’m just very, very cautious. You’re not wearing a wedding band, either, nor is there evidence that you’ve worn one.”
“You’re right. I’m not, and I haven’t. Since college, I haven’t stayed in one place long enough to cultivate lasting relationships. Besides, I love what I do, although there’s getting to be a conflict between that and the rate at which my biological clock is ticking.”
“How old are you?”
“I’ll be thirty-two October fourteenth.”
“I’m thirty-six, and sometimes I feel as if I’ve lived a thousand years. In my business, you see so much, move into and out of so many lives, that it’s not easy to keep track of your own life.”
“But I can tell that you manage it.”
“That I do. Otherwise, I’d have a mental problem.” He drained his third cup of coffee. “This was an unexpected treat. And to think that you offered it only to make amends for splashing ice water in my face.”
“I didn’t do that.”
“Did so.”
“Okay, I did,” she said, “but if you hadn’t forgiven me, you wouldn’t have come in, the prospects of a cup of real coffee notwithstanding.”
“Truth can be hard on the ego. I think we’d better get started.” He hugged Mirna and thanked her.
“What do we tackle today?” Shirley asked when they reached his car.
“Tell me if you think I’m wrong, but I believe we ought to examine his bedroom and study again. From what I’m learning about him, he put that will out of reach of others, but also where he could watch over it while he lived.”
“I can’t argue with that,” she said, and got into his dark blue BMW and hooked her seat belt. “Father never talked when the simplest of gestures would suffice.
Taciturn
barely describes him. By the time I was in high school, I had decided that he didn’t consider us children worth an investment of his precious time.”
He didn’t comment on that. They reached the family home, and he parked in the garage. “I don’t want anybody driving this baby but me,” he said, alluding to the high incidence of car theft.
Walking up the stairs ahead of him made her uncomfortable, and she ran up the last few steps. “What’s the hurry?” he asked her.
Tired of giving you a free show,
she said to herself. To him, she said, “Walking up the stairs is more tiring than running up.”
Inside of what had been Leon Farrell’s office or den, Carson rolled back the fifteen-by-twenty Tabriz carpet, exposing the bare floor of half the room; he then moved the furniture and rolled back the other half of the carpet.
“Nothing,” he said in a voice that suggested exasperation. “Not one thing.”
She helped him return the room to its previous condition. “It hadn’t occurred to me to do that,” she said, relaxing against the corner of her father’s rolltop desk.